


all I need is your hands and big warm beds

by psychepomegranates



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And they’re hopelessly in love, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, Inspired by Fanart, I’m hopeless, Just a cute fic about boys spending their morning in bed, Lazy Mornings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 13:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17705546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychepomegranates/pseuds/psychepomegranates
Summary: Nothing is better than starting your day by spending it in bed. Shiro certainly thinks so.





	all I need is your hands and big warm beds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Baedelus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baedelus/gifts).



> For the lovely Baedelus and their stellar artwork which this fic was inspired from! Thank you for sharing this with me way back when and for letting me write something for it now~ Love the art style and colors *swoons*
> 
> My title is a work in progress...
> 
> Check out the artwork here!
> 
> https://twitter.com/baedelus/status/1011362109043568640?s=21 
> 
> I love lazy mornings and I hope everyone who stopped by to read woke up just as well as these boys~

Dawn creeps up on them silently, the sun for once being respectful of the two not ready to deal with its’ incessant bright light; kind enough instead to gently bask them in a white golden glow, hazy around the edges while it’s still early and neither of them were fully awake to see through the first rays of sunshine.

Shiro isn’t ready to be pulled from the warmth still seeping from his blankets and the other occupant sharing his bed, where the other stretches tangling himself within the thin sheets before curling further into Shiro’s side, still trapped under the lull of sleep.

Shiro runs his fingers through the soft hair tickling his shoulder. He can tell it's going to be a good morning; light is pouring in like creamer into coffee and Shiro realizes the metaphor means he’s ready for breakfast. 

That and his growling stomach.

His hand cards through thick hair one more time before weaving through the strands in order to caress down a smooth nape and bare shoulder, cupping it fully in his palm, feeling the soft heat radiating from sleep.

However the second he does this the other stirs with a displeased grunt.

"Mnghnf."

"Keith,” Shiro smiles into his hair. “It’s morning, time to wake up.”

“Nnng-no.”

Shiro chuckles, “well at least let me up so I can start breakfast.”

Every morning begins fairly the same, both of them are early risers although typically it’s Shiro who manages to roll out of bed first with Keith following suit after he no longer has his personal body pillow to wrap around. 

But one of Keith’s more endearing traits—that everyone except Shiro would disagree with—is his stubbornness. Keith growls when Shiro makes a fail attempt at trying to get up from bed, slapping Shiro's naked thigh probably because he knows he can get away with a bratty stunt like that. Keith nips at his shoulder. “How about we stay in bed for one more hour. Breakfast can wait.” 

Shiro plans on retorting with a witty quip are thwarted, utterly ruined when one of Keith's toned but oh-so gorgeous thighs slips in between his. Despite growing up all around discipline and routine, it never fails to falter and crumble when going up against a force like Keith.

“Brat.” He huffs and he couldn't help be a little petty, returning the favor and swatting Keith’s rump when he feels weight settling more on top of him. A move that’s very effective at keeping him pinned to the bed with a warm full body flushed against his and the immediate waft of lulling musk filling his nostrils. He also couldn’t possibly ignore the little ruts of Keith’s hips over his, not when it feels so good yet indirect where it needs to be, he finds himself whimpering, "the things you make me do, Keith.”

Shiro can feel Keith’s victorious smirk pressed against his neck and the cocky brat has the nerve to tease his throat with more of those little nips. Shiro groans almost inaudibly under the pleasurable ministrations but he does nothing except wrap his arm tighter around Keith’s waist and falls back into the warmth of sleep.

It takes closer to two hours for either of them to stir awake next time, the sun already high past the horizon, it’s rays irritatingly shining light in their room, refusing to be ignored.

Keith groans as he pushes himself up in the bed, leaning against the headboard and Shiro uses the opportunity to slink away and finally get some sweet caffeine into his system.

A chill runs through Shiro as he steps out of the bed, tingling from his toes and up his spine. He heads over to the dresser to pull out a pair of sweats. Bending down to fit one foot through, he stumbles at the sound of a low appreciative whistle.

“Babe, how do you look so gorgeous in the morning?” Keith purrs, lax but with a simmering allure as the sheet slides down, pooling sensually in Keith’s lap, hiding all of his interest and intent underneath thin fabric, even if Shiro can see the shape of it clear as the day they’re missing outside.

Shiro has yet to figure out how Keith emits this effortless appeal that keeps drawing him in. But he has to put on a brave face and not fall into Keith’s trap again or they’ll end up wasting their whole morning in bed.

He opts out from answering the question, diverting both his attention and fluster away from Keith and towards the door. “You can rest for a few more minutes, I’ll come get you when it’s ready.” Shiro can feel his cheeks heating at how obvious that was. Keith’s responding amused snort only tells him that Shiro really isn’t fooling anyone and makes a hasty embarrassed retreat.

With waffles— blueberry for Keith, chocolate chip for Shiro— prepping in the toaster and rich dark coffee in their matching mugs, Shiro seeks his way back to the room, he’s cooled down and Keith has hopefully risen from bed, ready to take on the rest of the day together. 

Shiro sighs when he finds that isn’t quite the case. Keith is still resting against the headboard, dozing slightly until he’s blinking up at him with a small dopey smile, eyes heavy-lidded, hair tousled but hopelessly lovely. Shiro’s fingers twitch at the sight and he cracks a knuckle or two to ignore his sudden urges to curl his hands in that messy hair.

Even with the minor distraction, his feet are content to ignore the small punishment to his hands and decide to risk it by stumbling in a few steps into the room, drawn to Keith’s pull. Maybe sleeping in isn't so bad when he's treated to such a view. For a moment Shiro considers commissioning an artist to come in and capture Keith like this, soft and drowsy, for Shiro to be able to admire every single day.

So enamored, Shiro strolls up to Keith’s side of the bed, sitting at the edge, leaning in and pressing chaste kisses along Keith’s jaw then his lips, his boyfriend moaning softly at the affection. 

Shiro noses his way down the pale column of Keith’s throat, settling at the junction of his neck and shoulder, taking a deep breath and sighing in contentment. Keith always smells so good; a hint of pine from the soap of yesterday's shower, the smell of sweat from a delighted roll and romp in the sheets last night, plus the musk that came naturally from a good night's sleep.

Keith manages to wrap his arms around Shiro’s shoulders. Petting Shiro on the head absently, fingers running through the floof and down the buzz as he yawns into Shiro’s temple. His hands begin to wander lower, down Shiro’s back with his skin shivering in delight when Keith’s nails grazes his skin.

It’s really a shame when Shiro somewhat reluctantly pulls back, he kisses Keith tender and soft, unable to lift his lips off of Keith’s as he mumbles against it. “Alright Keith, ready for breakfast?” 

With a lazy confidence, where Keith’s still booting brain is using all of its’ current capacity for appreciating Shiro’s naked chest with his hands. Keith tugs and guides Shiro into tumbling back into bed. Their new position now has Keith straddling Shiro, with smooth long limbs still heated from the bed and with the sun highlighting Keith's skin with golden tones.

Shiro should have known that Keith was planning to trap him. Not that Shiro himself didn’t appreciate the sight of a languid Keith, rolling his hips slow, heavy, and sensuous above him.

Shiro really, really didn’t mind this at all.

Keith’s grin is sharp and predatory but with that heady appeal Shiro has always been weak to. Keith waggles his brows that has Shiro unknowingly splitting his mouth into a grin. "You wanna save breakfast for brunch, while we enjoy a little snack in bed?” 

Morning sex is great. Shiro cannot deny this and it’s possibly his favorite way to do it. It's just so, so lazily luxurious. At night they’re usually more spiked with fire, passionate as they’re ripping clothes off, pressing hard against each other with a mixture of growls, cries, and moans because it was the end of the day, and they always found themselves keyed up and frenzied.

But having just woken up with limbs warm and heavy from sleep, their bodies moving so slowly, no rush or race against time. And with Keith, soft and malleable in his hands, nothing could express how much Shiro loves it.

He grounds up into Keith, enjoying the hitch in his breath, matching the beat of their shared deep affection.

"Yes." He whispers. After all, what else could Shiro say? He loves spending his mornings in with Keith.


End file.
